Return to Truth
by Sydney47
Summary: Vaughn's POV during the "Facade" hug. Companion to "A Revelation."


A/N: This is Vaughn's POV during the hug in "Facade." If you wish, you can check out the companion to this fic, "A Revelation" (storyid=1776070), which is Sydney's POV during this scene. For those of you reading "Yesterday," I know it's been a long time since I've updated, but I promise that I will not abandon that fic. Schoolwork and a slight lack of inspiration is all that is keeping me from it. Anyway, hope you enjoy this!  
  
Return to Truth  
  
The city lights fly by my car as I make my way back to the office. The soft glow in the quiet night is a comforting contrast to my nightmare-filled day. The pain in my shoulder has turned into a dull throb, but it is easily ignored, as my mind is too clouded to notice. The thought of having to trust Sark, a man who has tried to kill me multiple times, makes me want to retch, but I resist the urge, as my relief in simply being on the ground fills my attention.  
  
The horrible day was only made bearable by the accompaniment of Sydney's voice with me into dangerous territory. Her terse, but reassuring speech through my comm helped me to focus and to overlook the fact that I was experiencing one of the most terrifying plane rides of my life. Now, I have to celebrate not exploding to death with an infernal debriefing. My thoughts will undoubtedly turn to Sydney, which will make up for it.  
  
Before I know it, I pull into the familiar parking garage and see someone fortunate enough to be on her way home at this late hour. As I reluctantly get out of my car to head into the office to discuss a day that I would rather forget, I realize that the someone next to her car is not just anyone. It's Sydney, and she is hurting.  
  
It is one of the few times since her death that I have seen her guard completely down. It is like one of those rare but valued times in our relationship two years ago - a time when she would allow her emotions the freedom they needed. She entrusted them to me, whether they were of happiness or rage, pain or love. She allowed me passage through her barriers to the secret truths deep inside, and I wholeheartedly embraced the privilege of being pehaps the only person granted access to her carefully guarded treasure. She let me experience the essence of her; I was drawn in by its sweet fragrance and overwhelmed by its indescribable flavor. Needless to say, I craved it and suffered from my need for it during her absence. Now she is here again, barriers shaky and transparent, the whiff of the aroma that is uniquely her drawing me in once more.  
  
I can feel the wrinkles that she once teased me about form on my brow, as I see her cheeks glisten from recent tears and red eyes that grow wider by the instant when she turns to face me. All of my senses are attuned solely to her now, hoping to spot the signal for my admittance back to the real her.  
  
"Vaughn."  
  
She utters my name softly, unsteadily, yet the force of her feelings behind her shaky voice is strong enough to cause the single word to reverberate endlessly within me. She is crying out to me; whether or not the sound of her voice echos off of the walls around us, it rings clearly in my mind, tolling like a bell. She is calling for support from the one person she can trust, needing help to fend off the thieves threatening to ransack her heart of its last shread of happiness and leave her with nothing but a dark pit of emptiness.  
  
The magnetism between us is as strong as ever; time doesn't even have the chance to pass before we are enveloped in each other, drawing comfort that has long been needed. I close my eyes to the reality of the situation and simply breathe her in. The whiff has become an unmistakably powerful scent, and I am finally reacquainted with the taste that both quells my craving and fuels my hunger for something more.  
  
Her arms grip me tightly, telling me how much she still cares for me, and I try to banish her fear of losing another man to the job. The pain in my shoulder flares, but I push the throbbing out of my mind because I have enough to worry about, and I don't need to add to Sydney's troubles. I nuzzle my face in her hair as I feel complete relief flood through me. Memories of the danger that brought us to this moment are gladly, hopelessly lost, and I allow myself to revel in the soothing peace of wrapping my arms around the woman I love, the woman I truly love. It has always been Sydney, and it always will be. 


End file.
